Secrets
by AliceBNight
Summary: Derek breaks up with Stiles in order to keep him safe. Unknown to him, Stiles has a pact with Castiel so that if he ever needs him, then Cas will come to the rescue. Derek has no idea that Stiles even knows Cas or the brothers. Just an idea that popped into my head-no idea where I'm going with this. Sorry for the sucky summary.
1. Chapter 1

"Get away from me," Stiles muttered, barely audible for any human to hear, but crystal clear for Derek.

Derek's hand froze in midair. At that moment he became aware of just how much he was hurting Stiles. He had to break up with him though—it was the only way to keep him safe. If they continued to see each other, the Alpha pack would only use Stiles to get to him.

"Look, just get in the car," Derek ordered.

He didn't want to leave Stiles out in the middle of the woods without protection. Stiles, however, seemed to have other plans for he just stood there. His back was turned to Derek and he was unmoving. When it became apparent that Stiles wasn't going to move, Derek growled and grabed Stiles' arm. This only served to release a scream from Stiles, "Castiel!"

Derek gripped tighter at Stiles arm and spun him around so they could face each other. Stiles response? To scream even louder of course, "CASTIEL!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek growled.

Stiles finally tore his gaze from the sky, eyes red and watery from trying to hold back tears, only to give Derek the worst death glare there ever was in existence. Which is saying something, since Derek thought he was the king of death glares.

"Don't touch me," is all Stiles said before turning his gaze up at the sky and shouting again, "Castiel!"

Derek let go hesitantly, eyes wide with shock. He took a step back and looked up at the sky, but saw nothing.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Derek asked.

Stiles made no motion to answer, which only aggravated Derek even further.

"Will you just tell me who or what the hell it is you are screaming about?!" Derek shouted.

"It has nothing to do with you," Stiles stated coldly—never taking his eyes of the sky.

He turned his back to Derek and began shouting at the sky again, "Castiel! Dammit, you son of a bitch, we had a deal!"

"Casti—" Stiles began, a tear slipping from his right eye.

"Sorry. I was…preoccupied," Castiel appeared, cutting Stiles' screaming short. He seemed perplexed at Stiles' now tear stained face. His trenchcoat was still flapping when Derek appeared in front of Stiles, eyes blazing red, claws out, and ready to attack.

"Who are you?" Derek demanded.

Castiel's brows furrowed as he tilted his heat to the side, pondering Derek's question for what seemed like an eternity, only to state" You are a werewolf."

While the statement pissed Derek off to no end, it made Stiles burst out into a fit of laughter. To which Castiel responded, "Stiles, it seems like you were right."

This only made Stiles laugh even harder. To say Derek was confused was putting it mildly. He could not comprehend how this guy, whom he had never seen or heard of before, could make Stiles laugh so hard. Hadn't he just broken Stiles heart a moment ago? How could he be this happy?

"I told you," Stiles finally responded while gasping for air and wipping his tears away. He made a move to go around Derek, but was stopped abruptly by a muscular arm. Stiles just glared at it and made a second attempt to go around Derek, which was denied by Derek's arm for the second time.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on? Who is this guy and what do you mean 'told you'?" Derek's voice slowly raising after each question.

They stood, glaring at each other in silence, until Stiles finally caved "This is Castiel. I said 'told you' because I told him trouble always finds _me_, I don't find it. All because I'm a magnet for bad boys—inside joke. And as for where I'm going, I believe it's not any of your God damn business because like you said, _this_" gesturing with his hand back and forth between them "is over."

Derek's nostrils flared, "Just because—"

"Stiles, we must go now. I left Dean in a time of need," Castiel interjected.

Stiles nodded.

"Wait. You can't just—"

Again, Castiel interjected by grabbing hold of Stiles and vanishing. Leaving their imprints on the damp ground where they once stood.


	2. Chapter 2

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE VANISHED?!" Scott roared.

"I—" Derek began.

"People don't just vanish out of thin air, Derek! What did you do?!" Scott asked accusingly.

He looked down at the ground, avoiding Scotts scrutinizing gaze, and huffed a breath of air.

"Derek?" Scott began again.

"It doesn't matter what I did—it had nothing to do with it. This guy in a trench coat just showed up out of nowhere and took him," he explained as he sat down on Scott's bed.

"A guy in a trench coat? What guy? Who was he? Why did he—" Scott kept shooting question after question as he paced back and forth.

"I don't know!" he screamed as he jumped up.

"What do you mean you don't know? You were there weren't you?" Scott began shooting off questions again.

"Yes. But I didn't exactly have time to ask any questions Scott! Like I said… the guy just touched Stiles and they both vanished out of thin air. It must have been some sort of magic. He smelled…off" his brows furrowed.

"Off? What do you mean?" Scott abruptly stopped pacing to face Derek.

"I don't know, it was just…off. I never smelt anything like it before. I think we need to go talk to Deaton," he explained.

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"And you said he just vanished?" Deaton enquired as he circled around the exam table to lean on it.

"Yes! Look I don't know how else to explain it okay? Really, if I knew where he was I would be out there looking for him right now. But there is absolutely no trace of him out there anywhere. Even his scent just vanished, like if he was never there to begin with," Derek explained for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Deaton looked on at a distance, face scrunched up in deep thought, and a hand cupped his chin the way it always did when he was trying to concentrate. The good news about that was that it meant he was close to figuring it all out. After what felt like an eternity he took in a deep breath and said "Angels."

Scott tilted his head to the side in confusion "Angels?"

"Angels," Deaton confirmed.

"Angels? What the hell would angels want with Stiles? Small, gangly, weak Sti—" Derek began.

"Wait! Angels are real!?" Scott exclaimed.

Derek looked at him with an unimpressed look "Yes Scott, angels are real. I don't know why you look so surprised."

"Well excuse me, but I just never thought it was possible" Scott huffed.

"Scott…you're a _werewolf_. _You're_ not supposed to be possible either, but here we all are" Derek said like if he was speaking to a child.

Scott looked like he was about to argue when Deaton interjected, "If angels have him, then he could be in serious trouble."

"I don't understand. What could angels possibly want with him? They can't use him as a vessel, he would probably explode. They have to know that right?" Derek asked Deaton.

"Explode?!Stiles is going to explode?!" Scott exclaimed.

Derek just glared at him, while Deaton answered "That's not probable. From what Derek has told us, it sounds like Stiles knew the angel and had some sort of pact with him. I doubt Stiles would volunteer to be a vessel knowing full well the consequences."

"Then what was he doing with that angel?" Scott asked.

"That's something you would have to ask him," Deaton stated.

"Well how do we do that when we have no idea where he is?" Derek demanded.

"Have you tried calling him?" Deaton asked.

Scott and Derek both turned to stare at each other while Scott muttered, "Oh."

"Oh? Please tell me you guys _have_ tried to call him?" Deaton asked incredulously.

Both continued to stare at each other in silence.

"Derek? Scott?" Deaton waited patiently.

"Well…I just assumed whoever took him would make sure no one could find him," Derek explained.

"I thought Derek had already tried so I didn't even bother texting him," Scott said as he looked between Derek and Deaton while pulling out his phone with lightning speed.

Scott waited as he heard the continued ring at the other end. Finally Stiles answered, "Heeeeeeey buddy. How's it hanging?"

"Stiles! Where are you?!" Scott demanded, eyes abruptly meeting Derek's. It was obvious that he was listening to whatever Stiles was saying at the other end. Deaton on the other hand just waited patiently with his arms folded across his chest.

"Um…okay, don't freak out. Keep in mind that I'm still in the United States and—" Stiles said trying to make light of the situation before being interrupted by Scott.

"STILES!" Scott demanded.

"Louisiana! I'm in Louisiana," Stiles cringed waiting for Scott's response.

"Louisiana?! What are you doing in Louisiana?!" Scott exclaimed.

"Well…I'm kinda helping some friends out with a little problem—" Stiles began.

"_Friends_? You mean your _angel_ friends? And what kind of problem?" Scott asked putting much emphasis on certain words; especially on the word angel since he still couldn't believe they were real.

"Yeah Scott…_friends_," Stiles scoffed "I do have other friends you know. And it's just one angel, the others are human so you can chill man."

Suddenly there was a gruff voice at the other end "Come on Stiles! We gotta get a move on!"

Both Derek and Scott locked eyes and became very rigid and tense at the sound of an unknown person. Seeing the change in Derek and Scott made Deaton stand up straight, looking back and forth between them.

"Look I gotta go, okay? I'll call you when I can and—"

Stiles was cut off again by the gruff voice "Stiles!"

"Bye!" Stiles exclaimed cheerily.

"No! Stiles, wait! What probl—" Scott began, but Stiles had already hung up.

"So what now?" Derek looked at Scott.

"We go get Stiles. That's what," Scott looked at Derek incredulously.

"We don't even know where he is Scott. Look, he said he would call back when he could. So until then," Derek inhaled deeply "we wait. Wherever he is at, the Alpha Pack isn't. So it can't be that bad. Plus, he sounded…okay. Happy."

"You want us to wait? And what…do nothing?" Scott asked, face twisted with worry.

"No, not nothing. We figure out a plan," Derek turned to face Deaton, locking eyes with him "tell us everything you know about angels."


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel had reappeared with Stiles next to a swamp surrounded by tall towering trees. It was night wherever they had appeared to, but the moon was high in the sky so it was easy to see. It was cold and every sobbing breath Stiles took ended with what seemed like a puff of foggy smoke. There he was in god knows where—surrounded by woods, yet again—sobbing like an idiot in front of an angel.

As soon as he knelt to the ground, trying to catch his breath, Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright? It can be difficult for a human to become accustomed to our way of travel."

Stiles took in a deep breath and tried to swallow down his tears, "That's not it."

Castiel's eyebrows came together abruptly and with realization they smoothed out just as quickly. "Did the werewolf hurt you?" he asked as he let his hand fall from Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles silently pondered the question for he did not know how to answer. Yes, Derek had hurt him, but not in a way that was visible. No. This wound went much deeper, but he just didn't know how to explain it all so that Cas would understand. _Do angels even go through heartache_, he wondered.

Castiel didn't know how he should interpret Stiles' prolonged silence so instead he said, "I can heal your wounds if he hurt you."

Stiles looked up, eyes red and swollen, "I'm afraid this is one wound you can't heal Cas."

Castiel's face scrunched up in confusion, "But I can heal many kinds of wounds on mortals, Stiles."

"Really…" Stiles stood up slowly, "can you fix a broken heart?"

They both stared at each other is silence for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Castiel's lips parted, about to speak when a loud rustling of leaves coming from within the woods put them both on high alert.

Before they had any time to prepare for whatever was coming, Dean burst through the wall of thick woods.

He came to a sudden stop when he saw Castiel, "Cas! Where the hell did you g—Stiles?"

"Dean, I think we might have…" Sam came bursting out of the woods, gesturing behind him with his thumb, trying to catch his breath.

"Uh…hey Sam…Dean," Stiles waved awkwardly "how you guys been?"

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Is this where you disappeared to? To get Stiles?" he asked Cas.

"Dean, do you recall the pact we made when Stiles helped us with the evil banshee?" Castiel asked.

"That if he was ever in any trouble we would—" Dean stopped midway.

"Stiles, what happened?" Sam asked pleadingly.

"More like what did he do?" Dean interjected.

At that, Stiles looked insulted "Hey! Why do you assume that I did anything?!"

All three just stared at Stiles silently, which only served to further aggravate him. He folded his arms across his chest in a defensive stance and scoffed. He only let down his arms when Dean gave him a pointed glare.

"Okay okay, fine. Sometimes…I do find myself in certain situations due to certain actions and or words that I choose, but it is not always my fault you know," Stiles explained exasperatedly.

"Stiles, just tell us what happened," Sam said.

Suddenly there was a loud howl coming from the woods. It sounded no too far off from where they all currently where.

"I thought we lost them. We better go. Now," Sam said shooting a pointed glance to Castiel.

"Hey Cas, you think you can get us out of here?" Dean asked when it was clear Castiel wasn't getting what Sam was trying to convey.

"Of course," Castiel nodded before he disappeared with all of them.

When they reappeared, they were standing in front of the impala.

"I call shotgun!" Stiles yelled as he ran towards the passenger door.

Before Stiles could open the door Sam grabbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, I don't think so kid."

"Hey! But I called it!" Stiles yelled as he tried squirmed out of Sam's grasp, but ultimately failed.

"I will be in the car," Castiel stated as he disappeared then reappeared in the backseat.

"Dean, a little help here?" Sam shot an annoyed look at Dean.

"Hey, you heard him. Next time you should call it," Dean said with a smirk.

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed with joy and looked up smugly at Sam.

"You can't be serious. Dean?" Sam asked incredulously.

Dean's smirk grew into a full on grin. At that Sam shook his head in disbelief and finally let go of the squirming teen.

Stiles bent down to plop the seat down so that Sam could get in the back. When he stepped aside to allow Sam passage he had the smuggest smile on his face.

"Unbelievable," Sam muttered as he clambered into the backseat.

Once they were all in the car Dean started up the engine and they took off. It was silent in the beginning and every once in a while Dean would look into the rearview mirror to see Sam's famous bitchface.

It was Stiles who finally broke the silence, "Sooooo…werewolves. You too, huh?"

"I told you. I left Dean in a time of need," Castiel responded.

"Um…Dean and _me_. I was there too, you know?" Sam turned to look at Castiel expectantly.

"Yes. I am aware," Castiel simply stated.

Sam looked baffled before his face just shut down. He turned his attention to the road and let an awkward silence fall upon them. However, Castiel seemed unfazed by the awkward part. Meanwhile, Stiles and Dean were both squirming in the front.

Finally, Dean coughed uncomfortably "What do you mean 'you too'?"

"Well…it's kind of a long story. But first let me just say that if we are going to stay somewhere, it should probably be in the next town over. That werewolf was signaling the others to where we were, which means that now he knows your scent. It'll be more difficult to tract your scent since we're traveling by car and being in a new town will make it harder to pin point your scent," Stiles explained.

"Huh…good idea," Dean looked impressed "but you're still telling me how you're involved with werewolves."

There was a long pause before Stiles began his story, "Do you remember when I first met you guys I told you that I was used to the supernatural and how I had experience in helping out my friends with that sort of stuff? Well, that's because I'm part of a werewolf pack. Or at least I thought I was? I really don't know now…"

As they continued driving Stiles told them everything starting from when Scott got bit in the woods and ending with Derek breaking his heart. Though he did omit certain parts, like Peter being the one who went ape shit crazy and returning from the dead—he didn't need Dean and Sam to come after Peter. Who knows what would happen if he were killed again. Plus, they don't need another way to bring each other back from the dead—they are pretty set on that department. At Sam's worried responses and Dean's outraged comments about how dangerous werewolves were Stiles had to go on and explain to them how Scott and the others were a different kind of werewolf than they were used to. He told them how silver wouldn't work on them and that these types of werewolves actually had the ability to control themselves and not go ravenous—at least most of them.

Then he went on to explain to them how he just couldn't deal with everything that was happening with the Alpha pack wanting to destroy their pack, trying to take Derek or Scott, or whatever the fuck their plan was, and on top of it Derek breaking up with him because "things just aren't working out." He told Dean that he had called Cas because everything was just closing in on him fast and he didn't want to have a panic attack right in front of the person who just flipped his world. It was already pathetic enough that Derek thought of his as a weakly human, if he have had a panic attack in front of him it just would have proven Derek right. Stiles went on and on until they pulled up at a dingy hotel somewhere in the outskirts of some forgotten little town in Louisiana—according to some old rusted out sign at the entrance of the town.

"Look I'm sorry I called Cas when you guys needed him. If I'd known I would've never called him," Stiles ended.

"Well it's actually kinda good that you're here. It seems we might need your help again," Sam interjected.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"These werewolves that you are describing…they seem like the kind that we are hunting. Except these are definitely ravenous," Sam explained.

"Yeah, no kidding. Between the two of them they have already killed seven people. One kid including," Dean looked directly at Stiles.

"I think we should go check in before we attract any attention," Sam said as he looked around the parking lot to some guy smoking a drag and eyeballing the impala.

"Yeah, good idea," Dean said noticing the guy Sam was looking at.

"And when we do," he looked at Stiles pointedly "_you_ are going to tell us everything we need to know to take these sonabitches out. And after that…we are going to help you out with this Alpha Pack problem of yours."


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Stiles awoke to what seemed like a million text messages from Scott. They ranged from asking where he was, needed to know where he was, who he was with, one saying how they were going to get Deaton to try to help them find him, and another talking about how it wasn't fair to worry his boyfriend. So apparently, Derek hadn't filled the others in on their breakup or his douchiness of epic proportions.

"Bastard," Stiles unknowingly muttered. When he looked up to see if anybody had heard him, he noticed that the others were gone.

Stiles was pissed beyond belief at Scott's comment that he decided it was best to just skip to the last text, which was in all caps: DUDE CALL ME!

As he sat on the motel bed, whose sheets probably hadn't been washed, he debated on whether to call Scott back or get back to him later when he was less pissed. He got up and paced around the room and found a note from Sam that said they had gone out for breakfast and that they would be back soon. Stiles looked down at his phone and decided that it was best to get the call out of the way because as soon as the guys returned they would probably want to get down to business.

He walked over and sat on the old chair by the door with the cracked leather. He took a deep breath and dialed Scott. It only rang once before he answered, "Stiles! Dude you gotta let me know what's going on. We're all worried over here."

"Sorry man. Had kind of a hectic night," Stiles explained softly.

"Well you gotta let us know what's going on. I mean Derek is already forming a plan. Deaton has filled us in on ways to summon angels and Derek wants to try in order to get you back here and—" Scott rambled on.

"Wow wow wow. Hold on there Scotty. That…is a _terrible _idea and I mean _terrible_. With a capital T. Plus, how would he even know which angel to summon. He could summon one of the megadouches and bam you're all dead," Stiles explained.

"Well he said that you were screaming the name Castiel so we assumed that was the angel," Scott said.

"Oh…" Stiles responded.

"Yeah…and what do you mean megadouches? Are there angels after you? Is that why they took you?" Scott sounded defensive of his friend.

"Megadouches, as in they think they can do whatever they want because the ends will justify _their_ means. And no, angels are not after me. I told you that Cas is my friend and he didn't take me, I called for him. He's a good guy. Angel? Angel-guy? Whatever. Point is, he's one of the good ones," Stiles rambled.

"So then what's going on?" Scott asked exasperated.

There was a long paused before Stiles could speak. It seemed like there was a rock in his throat and when he tried to speak his throat literally closed up. He had to cough a couple of times before he could get the words out.

"Derek broke up with me," he spoke in a horse whisper.

"Wh-what? He-he didn't say any—" Scott was baffled.

"Anything? _Yeah_, I figured as much," Stiles scoffed.

"Is that why you left? Why you had that angel come get you? Are-are you leaving us?" Scott sounded like a kicked puppy and Stiles could just picture the epic puppy dog eyes that Scott would be shooting at him.

"No man. You're my best friend—my brother. I would never leave you—at least not permanently. I just couldn't handle it all, you know?" Stiles was beginning to choke up.

"Yeah man I get it. Take your time over there as long as you're not in any trouble," Scott paused before he took a deep inhale, "you know you can talk to me, right Stiles? I know I can be kinda dense sometimes, but I am here yaknow?"

"Yeah, I know. And Scott?" Stiles asked while holding his breath.

"Yeah?" Scott said softly.

"About that little problem that I mentioned before. Yeah…it's kiiiinda not so small now," Stiles' wince was audible.

"What do you mean not so small?" Scott asked, already knowing the answer wasn't going to be anything good.

"Um…well you know…the kind that is considered to be relatively of a more grand proportion than one might have previously thought. Some might even consider it to be…oh I don't know? kiiinda large I suppose," Stiles continued to explain as his voice grew higher and higher.

Scott sighed loudly at the other end before he answered, "Stiles, just spit it out."

"There are murderous werewolves here," Stiles said matter-of-factly.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles had already filled Scott in on everything—including Sam and Dean's plans to deal with the threat in Louisiana first before helping out with the Alpha Pack—by the time the boys had come back from breakfast. Scott hadn't been completely on board, but was persuaded when Stiles explained how he had to help his friends and if anything happened, Cas could get them out.

"So, where's Cas?" Stiles asked as he caught the burrito Sam had tossed at him.

"Dunno, but he'll come when we call him," Dean said.

"You mean when _you_ call him," Sam said as he began to start up his laptop.

"Oh come on Sammy. It's just that me and him have bonded, you know? He just needs to get to know you," Dean explained.

"Yeah…right," Sam scoffed sarcastically.

"Awkward," was all Stiles muttered before he began to devour his burrito.

"So you said that silver doesn't work on these sonofabitches," Dean began as Stiles nodded.

"So then what does? Wolfsbane?" Sam asked.

"Yes, that and mountain ash," Stiles said around a mouthful of food.

"Wolfsbane can kill them? And so can this mountain ash?" Dean asked as he walked over to sit on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

"Wolfsbane? Yes. Mountain ash? No. It can just trap them. It's kinda like a devils trap, but for werewolves," Stiles shrugged, "they can't get out."

"Hey, I never asked, but do you guys know why they are killing?" Stiles looked expectedly at Sam and Dean.

"No, I haven't found anything connecting the victims. It seems like they were all just victims of opportunity. The first were killed while camping out in the middle of nowhere, one was going for a night jog, another walking home late one night," Sam said as he scrolled through articles on his laptop.

"I don't think these things actually have an endgame. I mean they seemed pretty out of it when we encountered them," Dean explained.

"Yeah, it was like they weren't all there. They were just…animals," Sam added.

"So all they're doing is running on instinct. Which means they might be omegas," Stiles began thinking out loud.

"Omegas?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. It means they have no pack, which also means that they will be weaker and easier to take down," Stiles explained.

"But if there is two of them, doesn't that mean that they are their own pack?" Dean interjected.

"Not necessarily. If they have no Alpha then they can still turn Omega," Stiles said as he finished off what was left of his burrito.

"So the best thing to do is to trap 'em, then gank 'em?" Dean asked.

"Yup, but for that we are gonna need a couple of things," Stiles said.

"Like Wolfsbane and mountain ash? I don't suppose you know where we can get them?" Sam asked looking away from his laptop.

"Yup, that's not what's going to be the hard part though. They'll be able to smell the mountain ash and Wolfsbane so were are going to need to disorient their senses and trap them a different way, then we can Wolfsbane their murderous asses," Stiles said.

"How do we mess with their senses?" Dean asked.

"We're gonna need Argent," Stiles said as he pulled out his phone.

"Argent? I thought you said silver didn't work on their kind," Sam looked puzzled.

"It doesn't. It's not the metal silver that kills werewolves, but the family," Stiles explained.

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"Hey, I got your message. Wh—" Derek began as he jumped through Scott's window, however he didn't get to finish seeing as Scott had literally punched him right in the face.

Derek got up from the ground eyes blazing red, "what the hell Scott!"

"You know _exactly_ what that was for!" Scott growled trying to reign in his wolf.

"So you talked to Stiles?" Derek asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

Scott scoffed "…yeah."

Derek stood there in silence, looking down at the carpet, which seemed very riveting at the moment. Apparently the carpet had the hidden meaning of life in it going by the way Derek kept staring at it—as if answers would appear the longer he stared.

"So you gonna tell me what the hell is going on?" Scott demanded after getting fed up with Derek's apparent vow of silence.

"What did he tell you?" Derek finally spoke.

"That you dumped him in the middle of the _fucken_ woods and then expected him to get back in the car with you," Scott attempted to state in a matter of fact tone, but failed miserably. His anger and protective instincts over his best friend were just too much to tether down.

When Derek didn't respond Scott decided to continue, "I honestly don't know what you were thinking. I _asked_ you, I _looked_ you right in the eye, and _asked_ you if this thing with Stiles was serious. And you said _yes_. So, either something changed from then and now _or_ you have gotten pretty good at lying since your heart was steady. So which is it, huh? Because you can't expect to just hit it and quit it without any consequences. Not with him. Not with Stiles."

For a moment it was as if a spell had been casted. Derek wasn't sure when exactly he had stopped breathing during Scott's rant. It was as if the longer Scott talked the more life force was drained out of Derek. Not only that, but the room itself seemed to become darker the more the silence was allowed to continue. The air seemed to become thinner and the only thing Derek could focus on was the steady ticking of a clock coming from downstairs. Without even realizing, his heartbeat had slowed to match the same rhythmic tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock of the clock.

Unbeknownst to him, the same rhythmic ticking of the clock that had steadied his heart, was the most aggravating sound in the world to Scott. The persistent tick-tock, tick-tock only seemed to lengthen time and thus the prolonged silence was unbearable. To Scott, it felt like a countdown to Derek's response and that perhaps if he held out a little longer then he would finally say something that made sense. Something that would explain why he had hurt one of the most important people in his life. He wished for Derek to finally say something that would fix everything. However, the longer he waited—the more the clock continued to tick—the more agitated he became as his patience dissipated with each persistent tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Gone.

"Are you still not going to say anythi—" Scott finally snapped, the spell had been lifted.

"I know! Okay, I know! You don't understand Scott. I—" Derek began in a pleading tone.

"Then make me understand! Because right now," Scott paused, "right now it is taking every ounce of control I have just to _not_ rip your throat out!"

Both their eyes flashed for a moment before Derek finally backed down and slumped onto Scott's bed. His body slouched down in defeat and his head hung low.

"Boyd, Erica, and your mom. Do you know what they all have in common?" Derek asked the floor.

Confusion struck Scott's face and then with a look of realization he spoke, "the Alpha Pack. They have all been threatened by the Alpha Pack."

"Exactly," Derek nodded.

"So you're afraid that they will threaten Stiles, too?" Scott paused briefly, "I still don't get it though. Even with you two broken up they will probably still threaten him eventually. He's my best friend, my brother. They will know he's important to _me_ even if you fooled them into thinking that he isn't important to you," Scott finished.

"They threatened your mom, but they almost kidnapped Boyd and Erica. All because I'm an Alpha. They want to weaken me by taking away my pack," Derek explained finally looking up to meet Scott's eyes.

"Yeah, I get that. But if anything, Stiles is in my pack even if I'm not an Alpha," Scott said.

Derek just pointedly stared at Scott in a manner that said he was missing something obvious.

"What aren't you telling me?" Scott inquired as his head tilted to the side examining Derek.

"Stiles…he's my mate," Derek confessed in a soft tone.

It took a minute for Scott to finally stop choking on his own spit to croak out, "your mate!"

"If they found out he was my mate, then they would do anything in their power to take him away from me. Killing an Alpha's mate is nothing short of crippling," Derek explained.

"Oh," Scott's tone was an enlightened one.

"Yeah. Now do you understand?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, I understand," Scott said bitterly before he punched Derek right in the face for the second time.

"You IDIOT!" Scott roared.

To say that Derek was taken aback was putting it mildly. He had been caught completely off guard and was surprised that he actually felt fear towards Scott. It was strange. It was as if another Alpha had roared at him and not the Beta that was standing before him.

"So instead of telling Stiles the truth, you dump him and make him leave?!" Scott seethed.

"Why does that make me an idiot? Now he's out of harms way and we can deal with the Alpha Pack ourselves," Derek said as he wiped off the blood trickling from his now healing split lip.

"Why? Why?! Well for _one_, if you haven't noticed yet, Stiles is the one with the plans. He's the strategic one, the one that does all the research and grunt work that ends up saving our asses. And _two_, he is not _safe_," Scott scoffed, "now he is up against murderous werewolves!"

Now it was Derek's turn to roar, "WHAT?!"

"Yeah, apparently his friends ran into some psychotic Omegas that have been killing people—including kids—and Stiles is helping them put them down. So yeah, he's _toootally_ out of danger now," Scott's voice was drenched in sarcasm.

Derek stoop up with lighting speed—well more like with werewolf speed—and stalked to Scott's window.

"Where are you going?" Scott demanded.

"To get Stiles!" Derek exclaimed incredulously.

"What? All the way in Louisiana?! And what, leave everybody else here unprotected?" Scott asked.

"Well I can't exactly leave him to deal with rogue omegas," Derek huffed out.

"He's with two experienced hunters and Cas. If anything happens, Cas will get him out of danger," Scott said trying to knock some sense into Derek.

"Cas?" Derek looked confused.

"Yeah, you know, the angel. Castiel. I guess it's a nickname, but whatever. He'll keep Stiles safe," Scott explained as he shrugged his shoulders.

Waves of jealousy began to roll off of Derek. _Who the hell was this angel? Exactly how close were he and Stiles, for Stiles to already have a nickname for him?_ These were only a few of the unanswered questions that were running through Derek's mind. What got him the most is that Stiles had never mentioned the angel before, nor the hunters. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard Scott calling him until he shook his shoulder. Scott had smelt the intense anger and jealousy radiating from Derek—not to mention that Derek's eyes were glowing red.

"Whoa there Derek. You need to calm down. There's no reason to be jealous of some old angel. I mean sure he can teleport, heal himself, heal others, and he's got wings," Scott began to ramble and noticed that he was getting off topic, which was not helping the situation _at all,_ "But he's also _soooo_ much older than Stiles."

"Scott…I'm so much older than Stiles," Derek deadpanned.

"Yeah, but he's in love with you. So there's really no competi—" Scott stopped abruptly, eyes wide.

Derek's whole body tensed, "he-he's in l-love with me?"

"Oh crap, crap, crap. Yeah…I wasn't supposed to say that…" Scott was beginning to freak out.

"He's in love with me," Derek declared with a huge grin, looking up at Scott.

Scot rolled his eyes, "yeah, congratulations. You're the last one to know. As if he couldn't have made it more obvious for you."

Derek wasn't even listening to Scott anymore, he was too busy grinning like a fool.

"Stiles is going to kill me," was all Scott murmured before he let himself fall into his chair.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So...been gone for a long time. What can I say? Life's a bitch that likes to kick your ass and hand it to you. Anyways...I tried to make up for my absence with a longer chapter. Next chapter you guys will see their plan unfold, awesome kickass Spark Stiles, and a little bit of what's going on back in Beacon Hill. And...I don't know what else. We'll see. Also, thank you for those who reviewed and took the time to leave a comment.**

"The gun brothers?" Argent asked from the other end.

"Yeah, the gun brothers. 'Cause their last name is Winchester," Stiles said holding onto the phone while simultaneously flipping through pages of research.

"Wait! Winchester?! As in Sam and Dean Winchester? Sons of John Winchester?" Argent rapidly asked in disbelief. He had been sitting at his desk when Stiles had called, but now he was on his feet.

"Ummmmm, I don't know," Stiles adjusted the phone away from his mouth and turned towards Sam and Dean "hey guys, is your dad John Winchester?"

"Yeah," Sam responded while Dean shot him a quizzical look.

"Huh…yup, that's their dad. You know him?" Stiles sounded amused.

Argent scoffed "Know him? There is no hunter alive that doesn't know who the Winchesters are."

"Really? Sooooo….does that mean you'll do it?"

Silence is what followed

"Hellooooo…"

More silence

"What do you need?" Argent demanded.

Stiles made a "not bad" face and nodded before he turned around and gave Dean the thumbs up.

Dean responded with a smirk before Stiles started rattling off the things they needed, "First, definitely going to need some flash bolts, Wolfsbane laced bullets, some sort of electroshock weapon, infrared goggles, and ultrasonic emitters."

Stiles conveyed as much information as he could and after a long lecture from Argent about the dangers of hunting, he finally hanged up, turning towards the brothers, "so…someone is terrified of you guys."

His comment was answered by two identical puzzled looks.

"As soon as I said your last name he clammed up. I'm pretty sure I could have asked for the guy's underwear and he would have shipped it over…with overnight delivery!" Stiles exclaimed, eyes wide.

Dean and Sam looked at each other and back at Stiles in silence.

"Anything you guys want to tell me?" Stiles prodded, "No? Nothing at all? Really?"

Sam squirmed, "it's kind of a long story."

00000000

Argent had sent him over to a couple of hunter friends that he had around the area. They had all the supplies they needed, which worked out well since Dean didn't want to call up Cas just for a supply run. His words being "he's not our own personal transportation."

The brothers had filled Stiles in on their many "adventures" that resulted in their "oh so memorable" reputation on their way to the hunter's base. Stiles went from shocked, sad, entranced, happy, confused, and back to sad. To say he had a billion questions was an understatement. Unfortunately, they had barely scratched the surface when they finally pulled up to a two story house in a thickly wooded area.

"Well, this is it," Dean said as he put the car in park.

When they all got out they stood in front of the house not knowing exactly how to proceed. Stiles took a deep breath, "here goes nothing."

They weren't really sure what to expect from these hunters, but their unwillingness to do anything was an astonishment. Neima, their leader, was even scarier than Victoria—if that was even possible. Matt, her husband, was no bundle of joy either. Clearly there was some power struggle going on for every time Neima held back information, Matt supplied it (like a challenge). Apparently, they knew a lot about the Alpha, but had some sort of long haul game plan that they were clearly unwilling to share. Though they did let them in on the fact that the Alpha was turning random people and discarding those that were not strong enough. That's why they were turning feral. With no one there to guide them and being abandoned by their Alpha, they became wild omegas.

Fed up with Neima's and Matt's back and forth Stiles finally snapped, "Well whatever you're going to do, it needs to happen now! And it needs to happen fast!"

Thankfully, Sam interjected before Stiles was completely engulfed with frustration, "look, I know you're reluctant to help us, but if we wait any longer, more people are going to get hurt."

Dean nodded in agreement, "if you don't want to help us because of whatever future plan you've got, then fine. Just give us what we need to take care of it ourselves."

When the hunters didn't respond, Stiles chimed in, "do you really want more people dead? They killed a _kid_. If any more _kids_ die, their deaths will be in your hands."

Neima's looked affronted, while Matt's face twisted in guilt. Still they said nothing.

"If you do nothing and more people die, then you're just as bad as them," Sam said, trying to get a reaction out of them. He had caught on to what Stiles was doing. He was trying to guilt them into action or to at least give them the supplies they needed.

"They've got a point," a voice called out from the other side of the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen.

Stiles twisted around in time to see a tall guy stride in. He had short blond hair that was styled in that messy look and brown eyes. He looked fit and Stiles took note as he shamelessly stared at his exposed biceps. Though he quickly snapped out of his stupor when he saw the guy wink at him with a cocky grin plastered on his ridiculously chiseled jaw line.

"And you would be…?" Dean raised a questioning brow.

"James," the man nodded.

"Come on mom, you know we should help. The killings are increasing. What if it gets worse?" James pleaded with Neima as he took a seat across Stiles.

Her face instantly softened at her son's tone, "We can't spare the man power right now."

"But," she paused and continued after a moment, "if _you_ want to help them, you can give them the weapons they need and perhaps help them formulate a plan?"

James nodded in agreement.

"Great, another kid," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Hey!" both Stiles and James protested at the same time.

"I can assure you that James has been properly trained. What he lacks in field experience, he more than makes up for it with talent," Neima explained as James preened.

"Come on. I'll show you guys downstairs," James stood up and gestured for the boys to follow him.

"Uh…downstairs? No offense, but last time I was in a basement it didn't end so well. Maybe I'll just wait here," Stiles twitched.

"Oh, it's more than a basement. Trust me, you're _gonna_ want to see this," James said with that cocky grin of his.

Stiles still looked unsure until Dean gave him a nod, "Don't worry kid. I've got you."

Stiles bit his lower lip and gave a curt nod as he stood to follow them.

00000000

"Whoa, dude you've got an underground lair?" Dean looked around like a child being introduced to a new toy.

Stiles wasn't any better, "it's like the bat cave."

Sam just rolled his eyes at them before sighing in defeat, "it is pretty impressive."

So it turns out this basement wasn't really a basement, but more like an underground training facility. The area expanded under the whole perimeter of the house. The walls were lined with shelves full of random contraptions and weapons. The first half had two connecting tables with blueprints, mechanical parts, partially built weapons, and of course Wolfsbane. The far end of the facility was dedicated to physical training. There were mats set on the floor and targets for shooting.

James just stood there, gauging their responses with a smug smirk. He then began to walk around the facility rattling off names of things Stiles had no idea what they were, let alone what they did. Though Sam and Dean seemed to understand most of it. They all started to bond over the vast collection of weapons and Stiles began to feel a little left out. He was beginning to get bored when James finally started talking about werewolves.

"A lot of the ones I've encountered have no tact. Barely any humanity left in them. That's why I actually respect those that learn control. It takes a lot of will power to tamp down the wolf," James explained.

"Sounds like you know a lot of them," Sam said.

"Not really. I did date one once though," James trailed off.

"How'd your parents take that one?" Stiles asked. He remembered how Argent went psycho on Scott for dating Allison. Thankfully his father was more understanding about the werewolf part, but less on the whole Derek being that said werewolf.

James winced, "not well. Especially when they found out he was an Alpha."

"Ooo," Stiles cringed.

"Yeah…" James responded.

"What's this for?" Dean asked holding up a glowing, pulsating metal ball.

"Don't touch that! Please put it back down," James rushed towards Dean before he hurriedly added, "gently!"

"What is it?" Dean asked worriedly as he slowly set it back down. His arms were stretched trying to get the contraption as far away from himself as possible.

"It's kinda like a flash bolt and an ultrasonic emitter rolled up into one," James exhaled in relief when Dean finally set the weapon down, "I've been working on it for months."

"You made it?" Sam sounded astonished.

James nodded, "yeah, I'm in charge of our weapons engineering."

Sam's eyes bugged out in response. He couldn't believe this _kid_ was in charge of actually _making_ the weapons.

"But you're just a kid," Dean said. Apparently he agreed with what Sam was thinking.

"Dude, I'm 19," James looked offended.

Dean held his hands up in mock surrender.

"First things first. We gotta come up with a plan. Preferably one in which you all don't die," James grinned sarcastically while pointedly staring Dean down.

Stiles raised his hand from across the room where he was messing with a cattle prong "Oh, I've actually got a plan. Well…more like part of a plan."

"Great," Sam's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Would you put that down before you hurt yourself kid," Dean warned as he snatched the cattle prong away from Stiles just as it went off.

"Uh…" was all Stiles could say while Dean was giving him the bitch face.

"So what's this plan of yours?" James asked, clearly trying to contain his laughter.

Stiles straightened up, "okay, here's what I was thinking: we set up trip wires with booby traps along their hunting grounds and lead them to a final trap using ultrasonic emitters and flash bolts. Hey, maybe we can use that glowy ball thingy. Bye the way, you should really make up a cool name for it, like—"

"Stiles, back on point here," Sam said trying to reel him back in.

"Right. So after we have them trapped, we turn them back and presto," Stiles clapped his hands together.

"What exactly do you mean by 'presto'?" James inquired.

"You're gonna do the same thing you did to the banshee," Sam accused as he quickly got to his feet. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head and Dean didn't look any better.

"You barely made it out alive last time," Dean said as he advanced on Stiles.

"Guys, calm down. I was fine. Plus Deaton has been helping me with control. Don't get me wrong, it's been hard keeping it all a secret but—" Stiles tried to explain with his hands up in front of him.

Dean quickly cut him off, "FINE?! Stiles! You were anything _but_ fine!"

"It wasn't that bad," Stiles muttered.

"Your heart stopped Stiles," Sam looked down on Stiles, "if it hadn't been for Ca—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Can someone please fill me in on what's going on?" James interjected as he inserted himself between the brothers and Stiles.

"Did you kill a banshee?" James asked Stiles incredulously.

"What? Kill? Of course not," Stiles looked offended, "I just took her powers away."

"Just took her powers away?" James repeated.

"Yeah," Stiles stated.

"And how exactly did you do that? What are you a Spark or something?" James asked skeptically.

Stiles nodded and responded with a long drawn out, "yes."

James' whole body tensed and he was quiet for a long time. He began to see Stiles in a different light and it showed. He looked him up and down with pure amazement written all over his face. He took a deep shaky breath before he finally spoke, "I-I've never met a Spark."

"So," Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, "not a terrible plan you got there Stiles, but how do you plan on leading the wolves towards the traps?"

"Ah," Stiles said with raised eyebrows, "that's the easy part…bait!"

"Bait? As in you?" James asked with disbelief, "Exactly how powerful are you?"

"No, not him. Me. Just like last time," Dean dipped his head towards Sam as a gesture of agreement.

"You?" James looked at Dean like he was crazy.

"Yeah, me. I can handle myself. This isn't my first rodeo kid," Dean returned James' gaze with an exasperated sigh.

"Well… I guess if anyone can pull it off, it would be a Winchester," James said as he turned around to pull out what looked like maps from one of the table drawers.

"Alright," Stiles said as he looked down on the maps, "let's get to plotting."

Dean rolled his eyes when he saw Stiles rubbing his hands together like he was a scheming evil genius. Yet again…he supposed he kind of was, in his own way.


End file.
